Okay, what I didn't have time to explain before I went (f***ing firewall) was that I was going up to the Isle of Mull, Scotland, for Christmas, to visit my lovely housemate Damian's family (Mum, dogs, nephew-in-arms) for Christmas. Lunacy or wisdom? Well, the air is clean and cold up there, and the water on the Sound of Mull very lovely. But a family Christmas is nevertheless a family Christmas, and I certainly wouldn't do anything so foolhardy with my family.
Nevertheless, we went, we played mah-jongg, we survived. We didn't kill the baby or lose the dogs. We survived the rail system (just) and now I'm home and clean and don't smell even a little bit of dog, though I think I have baby-germs in my throat.
The next few posts are collected from the holiday (I took my Palm, lifesaver, thanks so much Jinty). It's not especially traveloguey, but if you really don't like hearing about holidays and christmas, you may want to skip the next few ....
tired